The Genetics of Impatience
When I went to Australia a few weeks back, I spent some long overdue time with my brothers (Paul & Mark), sister (Phillipa), as well as my mum, Kath. It was really nice and I am thrilled for Paul that he finally found his bride. However, because I haven’t been around my family for nearly six years (how did that happen?) it was interesting to watch and observe. Definitely a case of watch them, see yourself.
|Paul in the middle|
One thing I’ve always known is my family has always been pretty out there compared to most. Let’s just say there was always a lot of energy in the family, because we’re all a bit manic. I always remember a lot of people around our family often wondering how the bloody hell we all keep moving, thinking, speaking, shouting (mainly mum) and running at the pace we did, but it appears it’s in the genes.
At one point, Mark was talking about how he hates people walking in front of him, feeling like he’s constantly being tripped up by slow walkers. I totally get that. Worse for me is someone who stops and talks to me in a doorway – as my husband knows so well. Speak to me but keep moving love, and DO NOT trap me in. Although I have come to appreciate that walking fast when there’s nowhere to be is completely pointless – slow down and enjoy the moment right? Also a benefit of living in the tropics is you walk slower because it’s too just bloody hot to walk fast. I’m still quick for Singapore though.
Paul showed a different manic side – this time when opening stuff – and there’s a lot of stuff to open during a wedding. I am equally guilty of this, as are my kids. When opening anything, if it is not immediately responsive, what do you do? You rip it apart that’s what you do. You know that patience virtue thing? I didn’t get a lot of that either.
|Mark and Phillipa|
My sister Phillipa lives her life at such high velocity, it’s hard for anyone to keep up. Whether she’s teaching, conducting, hosting a radio show, mothering, or decorating the most amazing cakes, she can spin your head around at the pace she lives her life.
And then there’s my lovely mum Kath. Bloody hell mum, I just got out of bed, give me a chance to turn around and make it. My mum’s home is always ALWAYS clean, and nothing stays in the wrong place. Mum is definitely the one who gave all of us those impatient and manic genes. My dad is definitely the calm one of the clan – although I got my “headiness” from him. Thanks dad.
I’ve often wondered why I can’t just sit back and enjoy the ride – appreciating what I’ve achieved and being OK with that. I’ve always tried really hard to master it – with meditation, mindfulness practice, etc.. - but there’s always something else I want to achieve, a new goal to be set, a new ambition to nurture. I can’t help it. This thing lives inside of me and as Queen sang “I want it all and I want it now.”
I was out with my mate for drinks the other night and she said you need to learn to be patient when I told her things weren’t moving fast enough in one area of my life. I know, I KNOW but I can’t. The drive exists and if I get freed up in one area of my life, a new opportunity has some space to jump in. I know it is exhausting for Steve. I feel the exhaustion of being with me in him often. But I can’t help it, I really can’t. He knew that when he married me too.
I was reading something recently that our most productive and successful years are usually in our 40s-60s. When I read it I thought of course, here I am in the heart of the time when I can probably achieve my best work, and yet here I am also in the time of being a hands on mum with young kids. That’s why you do the procreating thing earlier, so you can be free when your best time comes up. Doh!
Oh well, life twists and weaves, opportunities ebb and flow, and I continue to run full pace into everything, doing too much, taking new things on, agreeing to more, more, more. I will continue to work on quieting my mind, trying to get more peaceful, more grateful, etc.., but it seems, perhaps, I just need to accept this is who I am and should relish in my thirst for life. Based on my trip to Australia, I think I can say it’s definitely in my genes after all.
Anyone else relate to being completely manic – in mind, body or spirit?
Yours, without the bollocks